


Bloom

by ShowMeAHero



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Florists, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4576029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy Nelson is a florist. Matt Murdock needs some flowers. Fate must have meant for them to end up this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> I'll explain all the flowers in the end notes.
> 
> I didn't get the title from anything specific, but I very nearly used a lyric from ["The Gambler" by fun.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rT-5NY83OYI), which I highly recommend.

Foggy Nelson is a florist. Originally, he thought about being a butcher, maybe, like his stepmother wanted, but that just was not for him. He tried hard at being a lawyer, but, after graduating from NYU and getting an internship with a soul-sucking law firm, he did not have the heart to keep doing what he was doing, nor did he know anyone he would be willing to just haul off and start his own firm with. So, he left that, too.

Finding a non-law-related job with a law degree turned out to be much more difficult than Foggy originally anticipated, so he weighed his options. He had nothing to lose, not really, by doing what he wanted to do, and so he did it. He opened his own flower shop - Franklin’s Flowers, because, hell, who doesn’t love alliteration - and painted zinnias and snapdragons and Madagascar jasmines on the door and the four huge windows that served as three of the shop’s four walls. He filled the little shop to bursting with flowers, and he moved into the back office so he could afford to keep the place. He had always wanted to make Hell’s Kitchen a little brighter, and now he was doing it, one flower at a time.

Foggy had had the shop open for a little over a year when the Hot Blind Guy first showed up. Foggy had seen him in passing a couple times - New York is huge, but Hell’s Kitchen can be intimate, especially when it comes to someone like Hot Blind Guy, who is not quickly forgotten - but this was the first time he gave him a second thought. Hot Blind Guy tapped his way through the shop fairly quickly, navigating with surprisingly accuracy around the many, many shelves and planters Foggy had set up all over the place.

“Hello?” Hot Blind Guy asked once he reached the flower-covered counter. Foggy pushed a bunch of lilacs out of the way so he could better see his face.

“Hi,” Foggy answered, and Hot Blind Guy’s head turned in his direction. He smiled, and Foggy found himself smiling right back. The guy’s smile was infectious.

“I’m guessing I’m in a flower shop, right?” Hot Blind Guy inquired, folding up his cane and tucking it into the pocket of his jacket. Foggy nodded.

“I just nodded,” he told him, and the guy laughed.

“Thank you,” Hot Blind Guy replied. He reached into his other jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. He fished around before holding out a bill. “Is that a twenty?”

It was a ten. "Yup, sure is,” Foggy answered. “Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“Anything will do,” Hot Blind Guy told him. “I just now found out that it’s Secretary’s Day. My secretary will kill me if I forget.”

“Twenty dollars’ worth of flowers for your secretary. Got it.” Foggy took the ten and set it on the counter before grabbing one of his biggest bouquet options and setting to fill it. “What does your secretary like?”

Hot Blind Guy shrugged. “I don’t think she’d be picky. She likes blue, I think, and purple. She’s a thought-that-counts kind of person.”

“Okay,” Foggy said, drawing out the word as he searched through the flowers in his store. Hot Blind Guy waited patiently while Foggy hummed to himself and gathered his flowers. He grabbed pink daisies, purple zinnias, red astilbe, then surveyed his work. He took a couple white-blue calla lilies and smaller, brilliant blue hydrangeas. He placed a small bunch of pansies at the front.

“What’d you say her name was?” Foggy asked. Hot Blind Guy jumped slightly, like Foggy had startled him out of a daydream.

“Oh, uhm, Karen,” the guy answered, and Foggy scrawled her name across the notecard.

“Did you have a message for her?” Foggy asked, and Hot Blind Guy shook his head.

“No, I’ll just tell her thanks when I give them to her,” he said, and Foggy nodded, attaching the note to the bunch of pansies. He wrapped the flowers and handed them over to Hot Blind Guy, who took them an instant before his brow furrowed.

“Something wrong?” Foggy asked, ringing the guy’s ten up and printing off a receipt. The guy hesitated, then shook his head.

“No, it’s just-” The guy paused, then hesitated. “They smell really good.”

Foggy laughed. “Thanks, that’s kind of my job.”

“No, I mean, I know they probably look great, but…” The guy held the flowers up, closer to his face. “My sense of smell is heightened, you know, because I can’t see. Usually, flowers just make me sneeze. These just smell… I don’t know. Really good.”

“I’m glad,” Foggy replied. He reached out and placed the guy’s receipt in his palm. “I hope Karen likes them.”

Hot Blind Guy’s hand seemed like it lingered against Foggy’s, but that was probably just wishful thinking on Foggy’s part. Hot Blind Guy shoved the receipt in his pocket and nodded to Foggy.

“Thanks for your help,” Hot Blind Guy said. “Have a nice day.”

“Happy Secretary’s Day!” Foggy called as Hot Blind Guy was halfway out the door. He stopped, turned halfway back, and smiled at Foggy over his shoulder. As soon as the front door was shut, Foggy leaned against the back wall behind the counter.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, before spraying himself in the face with one of his tiny hoses. He could have sworn Hot Blind Guy laughed outside the store, but he was probably just on the phone. No way could he have heard Foggy.

* * *

For the next three days after that fateful Wednesday, Foggy lived in half-hope that Hot Blind Guy would come back into the shop, even though there was really no reason for him to come back. Foggy checked the calendar - there were no more obscure holidays coming up that would give Hot Blind Guy cause to buy flowers from him again.

Despite that, however, Hot Blind Guy returned on Saturday while Foggy was helping two young women decide on quick bouquets of flowers for their city hall wedding.

“I’ll help you in a minute,” Foggy told Hot Blind Guy as he passed by, and Hot Blind Guy jumped slightly before nodding in his direction. He helped the woman choose a variety of white blooms, his hands full of hydrangeas, mums, and snapdragons. He added a bunch of Stephanotis waxflowers, then tucked a sprig of holly deep into the bouquet before he handed it over.

“Congratulations,” Foggy told her, grinning, as he tied the twine and ribbon around the bouquet while one of the women held it up. He made an identical one for the other woman, tied that one up, as well, and handed them over. He refused when they tried to pay him, and they kissed his cheek in turn before leaving, laughing and beaming and tripping over each other.

“That was nice of you,” Hot Blind Guy commented as Foggy returned to the counter. Foggy shoved aside the lilacs and red roses that seemed to be constantly attacking him from the counter.

“It’s nothing, I just want them to have a good time,” Foggy replied. “Been getting a lot of requests like those since they passed gay marriage in all fifty, you know.”

“I know,” Hot Blind Guy agreed. He started folding up his cane, tucking it into his pocket like he had on Wednesday. “What I don’t know is how you keep this place running if you give away free bridal bouquets to young women and sell huge bouquets to blind men for only ten dollars.”

Foggy froze, then pushed the lilacs aside again. “You noticed?”

“I accidentally used a twenty that I thought was a ten the next day,” Hot Blind Guy said. “I drew my own conclusions.” He fidgeted for a second. “You know, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not because you’re blind,” Foggy assured him. “You were in a rush, you were cute, I wanted Karen the Secretary to get a good bouquet. It’s got nothing to do with you, hotshot.”

“Nothing to do with me?” Hot Blind Guy asked, smiling. “But I’m cute.”

Foggy rolled his eyes and thanked his lucky stars that Hot Blind Guy, by virtue of being blind, could not see him blush. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“But you did.”

“But I didn’t mean to.” Foggy leaned over the counter. “What can I do you for, pal?”

“Oh.” Hot Blind Guy paused, like he was trying to remember why, exactly, he had returned to Foggy’s flower shop. “A bouquet. For… my mother.”

“Your mother?” Foggy asked. “Okay. What does she like?”

Hot Blind Guy hesitated, then said, “Bold statements.”

Foggy laughed. “Alright, sounds good.” He paused. “My name is Foggy, by the way.”

“Foggy,” Hot Blind Guy repeated, and Foggy loved the way his name sounded in his mouth. “Then who’s Franklin?”

“Oh, that’s me,” Foggy said, starting to pick through his flowers. He started choosing the brightest reds from his planters of celosias. “My name is Franklin Nelson, but all my friends call me Foggy.”

“Do I count as your friend?” Hot Blind Guy asked. Foggy chose red zinnias and a handful of Bells of Ireland to go with the celosias.

“Anyone who comes to my store twice is a friend of mine,” Foggy answered. He added a bit of white yarrow for good measure. He handed the bouquet over to Hot Blind Guy.

“Well, my name is Matthew Murdock, and my friends call me Matt,” Hot Blind Guy said, taking the bouquet and holding it up while Foggy tied it with twine.

“Do I count as your friend?” Foggy asked, and Matt the Hot Blind Guy smiled.

“Anyone who can make two bouquets that aren’t totally offensive to my senses is a friend of mine,” Matt said, and Foggy grinned at him.

“Sounds good, amigo,” Foggy said, tying off the twine. “You want a note on them?”

“No, that’s fine,” Matt answered.

“Alright, then. That’ll be ten dollars.”

Matt paused in pulling out his wallet. “Ten can’t be right.”

“I’m the owner, I know the prices,” Foggy told him. “It’s ten.”

Matt hesitated, then handed over a ten with the corner folded down. “If that’s a five, I’ll knock your door down.”

“Rest assured that it’s a ten,” Foggy told him, ringing him up and handing him a receipt. “I hope your mom likes the flowers.”

“My- Oh, right, yeah,” Matt stammered. His grip on the flowers tightened as he put the wallet and receipt in his pocket and retrieved his cane. He snapped it out to its full length and smiled at Foggy. “Thank you very much, Foggy.”

“You’re very welcome, Matt,” Foggy answered, and Matt inclined his head and left the shop. Foggy caught a glimpse of his eyes behind the round, dark red sunglasses he was always wearing, and they were hazel-blue, beautiful browns like soil mixing with stunning blues like cornflowers. He sighed and dropped his head against the counter before starting to pick through the lilacs in front of him.

* * *

Matt came back the very next day. Foggy usually opened a little later on Sundays; the shop only opened on Sundays because Foggy lived there and because he needed all the profit he could get to keep it afloat, but he could afford to sleep in one day a week. Nobody was out at nine in the morning on a Sunday, anyways.

Nobody, apparently, except Matthew Murdock, who bumped right into the locked front door of the shop as if he had fully expected the place to be open for business. Foggy dragged himself out of the back room to look out at what had run into his door.

“Matt?” Foggy called. Foggy was glad he decided to get dressed before brewing his coffee. He left his mug on the front counter and unlocked the door for Matt, who pushed his way inside, rubbing at a red smudge on his forehead. “Sorry, I open a little later on Sundays. Why are you even out this early?”

“I was coming by on my way back from church,” Matt answered. “I should’ve checked, I’m sorry.”

“No apologies needed,” Foggy answered. “Want a coffee?”

Matt froze, staring at Foggy. Foggy frowned, shutting the door behind Matt, the bell over their heads ringing as he did so. Matt snapped back to himself a second later.

“No, no, I just-” Matt paused, the corners of his mouth twisting down. “Uhm.”

“Do you need another bouquet?” Foggy suggested, and Matt started nodding before he had even finished talking.

“Yes, that,” Matt answered, and Foggy laughed, heading back to the counter. Matt followed, tucking his cane into his pocket as he went.

“Who’s this one for, if you can remember?” Foggy asked, teasing, and Matt smiled.

“I remember,” Matt shot back. “My- My mother.”

“Your mother again?” Foggy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I meant my father,” Matt amended, and Foggy’s other eyebrow went up, as well. “He loved the flowers I brought for my mother. He wanted his own.”

“Did he?” Foggy murmured, pushing aside the sunflowers that were taking over his counter that morning. “Does he want the same one?”

“No, my dad’s different,” Matt said. “Something more natural, maybe.”

“I’ll make one for your father and another for your mother and you can decide if they’re right,” Foggy told him, and Matt nodded. He remained pleasantly and companionably quiet as Foggy started gathering the flowers for a wildflower bouquet for Matt’s father. He tied it with twine and pulled out one of the vases his sister had made for his shop in her pottery class. He put the rainbow of wildflowers in the vase and started on the bouquet for Matt’s mother.

“There’s a bouquet in front of you,” Foggy informed Matt, and Matt felt around on the counter until his fingers found the vase. “For your father. What do you think?”

“Even better than the last two,” Matt told him, smiling as he inhaled. Foggy was picking through his dahlias for the magenta-shaded ones he favored. He added purple-blue hydrangeas, yellow orchids, and burnt-orange calla lilies, then wrapped them together with ribbon. He placed them with the wildflowers and tucked some ivy into the vase.

“I hope your parents like them,” Foggy said. Matt had been blankly gazing in his direction, but he grinned when Foggy spoke.

“They smell beautiful,” Matt assured him. “The best so far, thank you. What do I owe you?”

“Ten dollars,” Foggy told him, and Matt tried to frown, but could not stop himself from laughing.

“These are in a vase, Foggy,” Matt pointed out, and Foggy shrugged.

“I know, I’m not blind, I can see it,” Foggy said, and Matt laughed harder. “Ten dollars.”

“I’m going to have to make this up to you at some point,” Matt said, and Foggy accepted the ten dollar bill he handed over.

“I’m counting on it,” Foggy replied. Matt smiled, the tips of his ears going a little red. The red in his ears and in his cheeks brought out the red in his chocolate-and-wine hair, and Foggy had to force himself to stop staring. He leaned over the counter to tuck the receipt in Matt’s pocket and press the vase into his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow for flowers for your sister, then?”

Matt laughed. “Probably. Have a good Sunday, Foggy.”

“You, too, Matt,” Foggy replied, and Matt paused, as if he wanted to say more, before turning and leaving.

* * *

The thing about Foggy Nelson was, he was not a stupid man. He knew when someone was flirting with him, even if he did not totally understand _why_. Matt only kind of knew him, though they apparently counted each other as friends, and Foggy had not made himself out to seem like a stellar partner in that time.

Regardless, he could tell Matt was flirting with him. Which made it hurt all the more when Matt came in two days later and asked for a bouquet for his girlfriend.

“Your girlfriend?” Foggy asked, the good mood that had flooded his system when Matt walked in disappearing when he heard what Matt wanted.

“Yes,” Matt answered, after only a heartbeat of hesitation. Foggy flicked the yellow and red tulips out of his face before shoving them out of the way.

Foggy Nelson was not a stupid man, but he sure felt stupid now.

“Sure thing, Matt,” Foggy said, starting to pull together a bouquet. “You guys been going steady?”

“What?”

“Different flowers mean different things,” Foggy told him. “I want you to send her the right message.”

“Oh.” Matt paused, seemingly thinking. “I want something that tells her how important she is to me. I want her to look at the flowers and know…”

“You love her?” Foggy finished for him, picking through his lilacs. Matt took a breath, his ears going red again.

“Maybe,” Matt answered. “Maybe.”

“And what does she like?” Foggy asked. examining his tulips.

“Whatever you think is best,” Matt answered. “I want them to make… my girlfriend want to go out with me as soon as she sees them.”

“Got it,” Foggy said, picking out a few lavender double tulips and placing them with the perfect lilacs he had selected. He chose Blue Bird lavender roses, pink godetia, lavender dendrobium orchids, catmint, and Kent Beauty oregano, arranging it all as flawlessly as he could. The end product was pretty impressive, if he did say so himself. He examined it for a moment before settling a red rose in the middle of all the lavender and pink. He tied it together neatly with a violet ribbon and handed it over to Matt.

“Ten dollars?” Matt asked, fishing in his pocket. Foggy nodded.

“I just nodded,” he told Matt, and Matt handed over the ten. Foggy rang him up and handed over his receipt, which Matt tucked into his pocket. Matt stayed standing there, and Foggy raised an eyebrow.

“I hope she likes them,” Foggy offered, and Matt nodded.

“Yeah,” Matt agreed absently. He hesitated, then held out the flowers. Foggy frowned.

“Is something wrong with them? Do they not smell good to you?” Foggy asked. Matt pushed them a little closer.

“No, they’re fantastic,” Matt assured him. “I bet they’re stunning. They smell perfect.”

“They look pretty good,” Foggy told him. “Your girlfriend will probably like them.”

“I bet they will,” Matt agreed, shoving the flowers almost into Foggy’s face. Foggy pushed them aside so the petals would not go into his mouth. Matt reached out and opened Foggy’s hand, pushing the flowers back into his fingers. Foggy’s brow furrowed.

“What the hell are you doing, Matt?” Foggy asked. Matt sighed and let go of the flowers.

“I fucked up,” Matt admitted. “They’re supposed to be for you. I don’t have a girlfriend, I thought it would be cute if I did it like this.”

“You don’t have a girlfriend?” Foggy asked, confused. Matt smiled.

“Maybe you could be my girlfriend,” Matt offered. Foggy paused; he looked from Matt, to the flowers, then back to Matt again, bewildered.

“But I’m a guy,” Foggy reminded him. Matt groaned.

“ _Damn_ it, will you just understand what I’m saying, please?” Matt shook Foggy’s hand, rustling the flowers. “Go on a date with me. The flowers are for _you_ , you asshole.”

“ _Ohhh,_ ” Foggy breathed. He looked down at the flowers again. “Well, with flowers this beautiful, how can I say no?”

Matt laughed and leaned over the counter. Foggy got the hint, slipping the flowers into the empty display vase before meeting Matt halfway across the counter, their lips sliding together perfectly. Matt sighed into his mouth.

“I wasn’t completely sure you were interested, to be honest,” Foggy confessed. Matt smiled.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, _and_ both of my parents are dead,” Matt told him, and Foggy laughed out loud, dropping his head onto Matt’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but don’t you think I would have figured that out eventually?” Foggy asked, and Matt shrugged.

“I hoped so,” Matt replied. “But I had to get to that point first.” He leaned in again, capturing Foggy’s lips and effectively silencing him. Foggy pulled back for breath after a minute or so.

“Is Karen real?” Foggy asked breathlessly. Matt laughed again.

“Karen is very real, and she is _very_ excited to meet the reason she’s gotten four bouquets of flowers from her boss in one week,” Matt assured him. He leaned in, dragging his teeth from the hinge of Foggy’s jaw down to his neck.

“About that date,” Foggy said desperately. Matt nipped at his neck.

“Mm?”

“You got the flowers, so how about I get the coffee?” Foggy offered, breath ghosting over Matt’s lips. Foggy did get the coffee, so Matt got dinner, so Foggy got lunch after _that_ , until, eventually they lost track of who got what. One of them always brought flowers, though, and always from Franklin’s Flowers, which meant a fair amount of theft on Matt’s part. They used Foggy’s flowers at their wedding - the same bouquet Matt made Foggy make for himself, an explosion of lavender and pink, a red rose settled in the heart of each centerpiece. They got flowers for each other at the birth of each of their four children - Rose, Lily, Iris, and Rowan - and they got flowers for each other on Secretary’s Day, every year, like a running joke between them. And if Franklin’s Flowers eventually became Franklin and Matthew’s Flowers, well, it was worth losing the alliteration.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lilacs mean first love.  
> Pansies mean loving thoughts.  
> Stephanotis (waxflowers, Madagascar jasmines) means good luck.  
> Holly means domestic happiness.  
> Yarrow means good health.  
> Sunflowers mean adoration.  
> Ivy means fidelity.  
> Red tulips mean declarations of love.  
> Yellow tulips mean hopelessly in love.  
> Red roses mean passionate love.  
>   
> Here are the [two](http://images.meredith.com/content/dam/bhg/Images/2006/04/100433419.jpg.rendition.largest.jpg) [bouquets](http://images.meredith.com/content/dam/bhg/Images/2015/6/23/102026259.jpg.rendition.largest.jpg) that make up Karen's bouquet.  
> Here is the women's [wedding bouquet](http://images.meredith.com/content/dam/bhg/Images/2015/6/8/102396733.jpg.rendition.largest.jpg).  
> Here is the [bouquet](http://images.meredith.com/content/dam/bhg/Images/2015/6/23/102026557.jpg.rendition.largest.jpg) for Matt's mother.  
> Here is the [bouquet](http://images.meredith.com/content/dam/bhg/Images/2015/6/23/101965166.jpg.rendition.largest.jpg) for Matt's father.  
> Here is the [second bouquet](http://images.meredith.com/content/dam/bhg/Images/2006/04/100433386.jpg.rendition.largest.jpg) for Matt's mother.  
> Here is the [bouquet](http://images.meredith.com/content/dam/bhg/Images/2006/06/100444956.jpg.rendition.largest.jpg) Matt has Foggy make for himself, also used at their wedding.  
>   
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
